Deep Cover
by LittleMewLugia
Summary: In the early years of the war, the Autobots sent a deep-cover spy to infiltrate the Decepticons, an attempt that was successful. But now the Autobots need to get him back.
1. Chapter 1

Deep Cover.

Summary: In the early years of the war, the Autobots sent a deep-cover spy to infiltrate the Decepticons, an attempt that was successful. But now the Autobots need to get him back.

Rating: T for safety. May rise.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. That privilege is owned by Hasbro and DreamWorks/Paramount.

Deep Cover.

Prologue.

Kaon, Cybertron, a very long time before the present.

He came online with his processors aching. He could not remember how he came to be here in downtown Kaon…then he remembered The fight. The inevitable result. He looked down at his claws, for a moment confused. Claws…yes that was right, he had managed to better the other mech, managing to catch a major energon line. That explained the energon streaking his fingers and hands.

Faster and faster his memories returned and he sprang to his feet. He had the feeling he was being watched, but when he turned, there was nothing. He moved on, mindful that he might run into trouble. He flexed his claws: he was ready for trouble.

"Halt! You there! What are you doing trespassing on Decepticon held territory?"

He turned to view the speaker dispassionately.

"I come looking to join the Lord High Protector's army, and pledge myself to his cause." he said.

"Oh you do, do you? What makes you think that the Lord Megatron would want anything of your support? What do you have to offer him?" the other mech - an arrogant green glitch who was taller by a few feet - asked.

"I offer him my loyalty, my support and my skills." he said.

"What skills would those be?" asked the green mech.

"I can work with others, even those I dislike, if we are working to the same goal. I obey orders. I can sneak, and I can fight." He said the last word almost challengingly, baring his sharp-pointed teeth.

"Oh you can, can you?" the green one said, and waved two of his patrol forward almost dismissively. "Prove it." To the two men the green mech said "Fight him. To the death." The two mechs started edging towards their opponent, and the first screeched as he was suddenly leaped on with a power belied by the other mech's bulky frame. A roar sounded as teeth and claws dug deep into plating, tearing into delicate wiring below. Then the second mech was trying to defend himself from an attack which was so fast and so fierce he feared for his Spark.

"Enough! You've proved you can fight. Stop this." came the voice of the green one.

He proved his earlier statement that he could take orders, rolling off his opponent and to his feet in one smooth movement, the green mech moving over to check the two.

"You didn't kill this one." he said, nudging the first opponent with his foot. "Why not? No stomach for killing?" he mocked. The other shook his spiky head.

"He can still be used. I abhor waste. That way you do not just switch one mech for another." The second mech was getting to his feet, and the green one aimed his cannon at the first.

"No." said the other. "With repairs, he can be useful again."

"He has lost in a battle. He is severely damaged. He could not stand against you, he forfeits his right to live." Green said.

"Resources are valuable and scarce. Do not waste where there is no need." He hoisted the mech up roughly. "He will learn from his error in underestimating me, or he will die by repeating it. Either way, let him live or die fighting our enemies rather than our own."

The green mech nodded.

"You speak sense. I am Venomslash but you will address me as 'Sir.' What is your designation?"

"I am designated…Barricade, sir," he replied.

"Follow me, Barricade, you're recruited. We finish patrol, then return to base."

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Several metres away, Mirage activated his disrupter with a heavy Spark as he moved away, back to a safer area. He knew that the next time he saw his friend, he would not know him as such, not as Ratchet had removed all his memory chips and replaced them with a false set of memories, mindset and beliefs. Even his body was unrecognisable from what it had been, even his vocal processor had been removed and replaced, and this was all by his own suggestion. When they next met him, he would be actively trying to kill them.

He reached an area he knew was communication-secure and opened a channel.

"Mirage reporting in sir." he said.

"Report." Optimus said.

"The plan worked, sir, he's gone with them, he's been recruited." He sighed through his vents and spoke again.

"Repeat, plan successful, Prowl is in."


	2. Chapter 2

Deep Cover.

Chapter One.

One week after the Battle of Mission City.

The Army base had officially been closed since the late Eighties, but had in fact played host to a variety of 'black' Army projects and secret meetings and manoeuvres until relatively recently. As they now had other purpose-built places in which to perform further such operations, it was not a great loss to the Military to empty the Base of what they needed, fill some of the buildings with items they thought would benefit the new tenants, and publicly make a gift of the Base to their Autobot allies.

It was in one of the medium-sized buildings that Optimus called a meeting of the four functional Autobots plus three humans. Ratchet had refused to rule out the possibility that something of Jazz's Spark had survived, and had placed the body in stasis until he had the time to concentrate on checking all possibilities. Personally, Optimus had little hope, but Ratchet had refused to accept Jazz was gone forever until he had run all possible checks.

Optimus knew that Ratchet took the loss of any patient under his care personally, and would not declare anyone dead until all possibilities were exhausted. It was bad for morale when somebody died, and he knew the mood would be sombre. That, however, was not the purpose of this meeting. He had two things to speak of, one piece of news he knew would be received well, and hopefully raise spirits, the other less so.

He stood, and all optics (and three sets of organic eyes) in the room turned to look at him.

"I have called this meeting because I have news to impart to you and a mission to outline." He said. "I have received several responses to the call I sent off into space the day after the battle." There was a small flurry of movement as everyone looked at each other.

"May I ask who, sir?" asked Bumblebee, who was holding Sam in his hands and had Mikaela perched on his shoulder.

Optimus gave a gentle smile: everyone else obviously wanted to ask the same information.

"Not everybody will be landing at the same time as they are different distances from the planet and approaching from different directions, but within an orn we should expect Bluestreak, Hound, Cliffjumper, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Brawn, Mirage, Powerglide, First Aid, Red Alert, Wheeljack, Smokescreen, Tracks, and Inferno."

Another flurry of looks was exchanged, and Optimus waited for it to die down, raising a hand to indicate he had not yet finished. As they subsided, he continued.

"I have also received a communication from Elita-One, who has stated that she and five others will be arriving together."

Ironhide had been counting on his digits and said "Twenty reinforcements?" That'll be a help, but we'll need to find room for them all."

"Well, as long as we can get eight recharge points functional, we can rotate." said Ratchet. "We don't have to have quarters, we didn't even have a Base till yesterday."

"I think that can be arranged." Will said. He was sat comfortably on one of Ironhide's big cannons, feet wedged into the narrow area where arm and weapon met. "The American public is still grateful, Mission City is still very much uppermost in the minds of the Military top brass, and we have warned them that Starscream has left to get reinforcements. If we tell them we have Autobot reinforcements arriving but need more buildings, the army has prefab building slabs available and can raise a structure within a week, and have a permanent Base accommodation block built within three months. Remember what the Secretary of Defence told you? 'Anything you need that is within our power to provide, ask me and within reason, you'll get?' Well, he's a man of his word and such a request is well within reason, seeing as you saved the collective asses of the American people, if not the world."

"Very well. I will make the request." Optimus stated. "However, once we have reinforcements, we will still have a mission to perform, one that will reduce the Decepticon forces by one and gain us another ally. It will not be an easy mission, and our ally does not at this time realise that he is such, but once Ratchet has worked on him, he will do so."

The silence inside the building was almost touchable as the humans and Autobots assimilated the words that Optimus had just used.

"Optimus, if you're talking about what I think you're talking about, firstly, you've left it very late, and secondly, your choice of words leaves much to be decided and is wide open to misinterpretation."

Ratchet commented.

Ironhide spoke up.

"Yeh' gonna catch one of the 'Cons and reprogram them to be an Autobot? I wouldn't have thought it of yer, Ratchet."

"Hey, wait, wait, _wait_ a minute!" said Sam "What do you mean, 'reprogram'? You're going to forcibly recruit and tinker with the mind of one of the others? What happened to the noble Autobot cause and your great belief in freedom?" On Bumblebee's shoulder, Mikaela was glaring at Ratchet, and Bumblebee's optics were fixed wide open and staring at Ratchet.

"You _do_ that? And you call yourself a _medic_?" cried Mikaela in outrage.

Ratchet gave Optimus a look, then turned back to face his accusers.

"I have the _skill_ to do such, all medics must have a basic knowledge of the functioning of the processors and how code is written and translated. Processor and coding errors can and do occur, someone has to be able to fix them. Before the war there were specialist processor doctors who could cure almost any problem related to damaged processors, or coding that was either bad or had degraded," he explained.

"However, I find forcibly changing the mind of a mech or femme ethically abhorrent." He stated. "In other words, I _could_ do forced reprogramming, extensive and detailed recoding, but I _won't_." he stated. "As you have pointed out, Mikaela, no medic worthy of the title would change the mind of another against their will." He looked over the assembled group.

"But - Prime said the mission would reduce the Decepticon forces while gaining us an ally after you, Ratchet, had worked on him!" Ironhide said.

Ratchet sighed and turned to the silent Optimus. "I _told_ you your wording was open to misinterpretation." He turned back to everyone else. "No, what I am speaking of is_ deprogramming_ – that is, restoring the memories and personalities of a mech from our side who has been reprogrammed.

"Oh, that's different," stated Ironhide happily. "Which mech are we talking about?"

"You know him now as Barricade, but knew him previously as Prowl." Optimus explained.

Sam yelped.

"That hell-spawned mech is an _Autobot?"_ he cried.

"Prowl!" said Bumblebee. "I _wondered_ what had happened to him, all you said is he had another mission. I guess he got caught, and the Decepticons reprogrammed and remodelled him? Those Pit-Sparked, glitch-headed rejects of the scrapheap!" Bumblebee said, optics glowing hotly with anger.

"Not exactly, Bumblebee, the Decepticons did not capture or reprogram him to our knowledge." Optimus told the agitated little scout.

"If not the Decepticons, then who?" Bumblebee said. "Who else would do such a thing?"

Ratchet raised a hand to get Bumblebee's attention.

"Actually, that would be me." He said calmly.

A strange, staticky noise came from Bumblebee's vocal processor, and for a moment Ratchet thought the repairs he'd performed on it had broken down again, but then the scout spoke, confusion evident in his optics.

"But – you just said you _wouldn't_ – but you would to one of our _own_? You said you wouldn't forcibly change _anyone's_ mind, but you changed Prowl into Barricade? I – I don't understand, you're contradicting yourself!" Ironhide nodded, laying a hand in the little scout's unoccupied shoulder.

"No, let me explain." Ratchet said. "The important word here is 'forcibly'. I changed Prowl into Barricade, body and processors, because Prowl _asked_ me to."

The silence after Ratchet's statement was so thick it was almost visible.

"Prowl – _asked_ you to? But why would he want that?" asked Bumblebee, the shutters of his optics clicking rapidly open and closed, a sign of the scout's growing distress and confusion.

"Because Prowl decided that the Autobots would benefit from a deep-cover spy in the Decepticon ranks." Ratchet explained. "He told me to remodel him physically so it would not be obvious who he used to be. He requested that I take his original memory chips and hold them in safety to be replaced in his head upon his return, and to build him a false memory and life – one that would pass casual inspection.

He and I sat for orns and orns before starting anything, drafting questions and details he may need to know, experiences he should have false memories of, to make his character believable and functioning. I checked all the recycled and old memory chips I could find, looking for fragments of memories from mechs long gone and rusted, and with permission – although not explaining what for – took memory-copies from as many mechs from as many walks of life as I could. Using fragments of these, and where we did not have suitable memories, using our imagination to fabricate them, we created a whole new identity for Prowl, and Prowl suggested the personality of this mech be almost the opposite of his own to again throw off any suspicion of his true identity." Ratchet paused and surveyed the faces in front of him, then continued.

"As we did not know who might be listening in, or what might be let slip, Prime, Prowl and I kept this to ourselves, except for Mirage and Wheeljack, whose assist we needed. It is _not _an indication that we did not trust any of you, more that it is true what they say, the less people who know a secret, the less likely it is that it is leaked. Even those of us who know have a dormant virus in our processors, to be activated if we are taken prisoner and are tortured, to delete the information in our processors, including that about Prowl, to keep the secret safe.

Then I remodelled Prowl in utter secrecy in a secret location – he went here once we told everyone he was going on a mission – where I physically remodelled him, took out his memory chips, and implanted the false memory chips. Then Mirage and I took him to downtown Kaon. I left, and Mirage re-onlined him and hid, watching as he was found by a Decepticon patrol and proved his worth to them, being accepted into their ranks."

Bumblebee stepped forwards, handing Sam to Optimus, and then giving Mikaela to Ironhide, then rounded on Ratchet.

"You let us all attack him, risked us all _killing_ him, allowed us all to think he was an enemy without _telling_ us?" he said. He rounded then on Prime. "And you let this happen, let us all shoot at a mech whom we had all known as a friend? How _could_ you?"

"You are out of order, scout." Snapped Ratchet. As you were!"

"No, Ratchet, let him, he needs this, and he has asked some questions which I feel deserve answers, although they may not answer his questions the way he would want us to." Optimus said. He turned to the yellow Autobot, who was vibrating with checked emotion.

"Yes, we allowed you all to fight him unknowing because Prowl suggested it. He is my tactician, and he stated it as a tactical decision, and I take Prowl's tactical decisions seriously. Had you known who it was, you would probably have not fought him as hard as you did, a nicety his new personality would not have returned, he would have had no compunctions about killing _you_." He looked at Ironhide.

"If everyone else in the Autobot forces had known, many of them, too, would likely have held off their attacks, and this would have likely drawn the attention of the other Decepticons. They would have wondered why this was happening, and probably investigated, potentially finding him out and despatching him or using him against us to their advantage. Who better to send on an attack than someone you know won't be attacked at full force? That is why I did as Prowl asked, and kept the information available to people only on a need-to-know basis."

"Bumblebee, I also did the best I could to help him survive." Ratchet said. "I gave him triple-strengthened armour, downloaded all the memories I could find of arena fighting, frontlining, downright dirty fighting when I could find it. Sunstreaker's knowledge of arena-fighting? He's got it. Sideswipe's dirty tricks and feints? He knows them. I gave him knowledge of everything I could find to give him the greatest chance he could have in a fight – something that is now going to work against him in an attempt to capture him and restore him to himself."

"Why leave it so long?" asked Ironhide. "If he had any useful information, it is likely out of date by now."

"Because by the time he was likely to have gained enough trust and position to be privy to information that may be useful to us, the AllSpark had been launched, Megatron had left in pursuit of it, and everyone was scattered trying to find the AllSpark, Autobot and Decepticon alike." Optimus explained. "He disappeared off our radar soon after Megatron's departure, and our next reported sighting of him was from Bumblebee, on Earth. He may not have anything of tactical use any more, but I think we are all agreed that just having Prowl back is enough."

"However, we need more than the four of us, thanks to the knowledge I gave him," said Ratchet. "That is why Optimus suggested waiting for the reinforcements, and when they arrive, we will hold another meeting to tell them what we have told you."

"So, we're gonna try to get Prowl back, preferably before Starscream returns with Decepticon reinforcements, but as Barricade he will not make that at all easy." Ironhide stated. "Thus, the more of us there are, the more likely we are to get him?"

"Exactly." Stated Ratchet.

"Suggestions are appreciated, bring them to me." Optimus stated. "Until then, you are dismissed. You all have duties, please attend to them." He nodded, and smiled as the three mechs and three humans dissipated to all help make their new base habitable.


	3. Chapter 3

Deep Cover.

Chapter Two.

A/N: Sorry it's short but I think it has enough action. Thanks to KDZeal of the International Nerd Herd.

"What do I want with ten sets of human-sized military-issue mechanic's kits?" asked Ratchet in exasperation.

"Well, I'd keep a few, but you can either give the rest away, sell them or give them back." said Mikaela, who was helping Ratchet clear the building he was claiming as his med bay, and sort through the stuff the army had thought would be useful- much of what wasn't.

"You have one, Mikaela, if you're going to be helping me here you will need human-sized instruments, especially for the fiddly work. I'm glad you've offered your aid in that- some parts are just so fiddly I'd need probes otherwise, which usually makes retuning sensors, for example, take three times longer than it should! I'll put four aside, and return the other five to the Military with thanks." he said.

Mikaela nodded, put the set with other stuff Ratchet had said she could have (overalls, small cans of WD-40, tiny cloths impregnated with anti-smear formula, car, jeep and aircraft service and repair manuals, a laptop, and various other paraphernalia only useable by humans) and put the rest with the stuff being returned to the Military, as Ratchet put the other four back on their shelf.

Of course, not all the stuff was human-sized or not applicable - all the sheet-metal Ratchet had kept, plus many of the circuits, motherboards, wires, cables and tubing. Some of the useless mechanical stuff had been disassembled by Mikaela into component parts that Ratchet kept, and human-sized tables, chairs, beds and sheets ETC, Ratchet had kept to furnish the area of the medbay he had already decided he'd furnish to treat human patients. However, he was going to insist on a human medic to help. Mikaela could take instructions from him when working with injured Autobots, but neither he nor Mikaela were particularly trained to help ailing humans.

They worked comfortably like this for another hour, and then Ratchet jerked his head up as he received a communication from Bumblebee.

"Mikaela, I may need your help soon. We should clear all the stuff to the sides, I have received a communication from Bumblebee that we have three inbound cometary forms about to enter the atmosphere, and possibly up to five more expected a few hours after."

They hurried to get the stuff moved.

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"Sir, three inbound cometaries detected." Bumblebee informed Optimus.

"Yes, scout, I detect them also." Optimus answered. "It seems our allies are arriving in good time. Who are we expecting first?"

"Mirage and Hound," said Bumblebee, "followed by Cliffjumper, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Bluestreak and Wheeljack five to six hours later."

"So who's the third one with Mirage and Hound now though?" asked Optimus.

"I don't know, sir." Bumblebee told his commander, looking up with concerned optics. "We're only expecting two right now."

"Then maybe one of the others has managed to catch them up. Wheeljack, perhaps." Optimus said.

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The first two protoforms landed relatively close together, the third landing five minutes later a little further away. A slender protoform scrambled lithely out of the first crater, heading, as instinct demanded, to the road to find a disguise form. A few minutes later, a shiny blue Lotus sports car with white flashes was heading for the second crater, and followed a distance behind the second, squatter protoform that headed towards the nearby Air Base.

The second protoform didn't even need to get into the base but squatted outside the fence, extending its palm towards the green military Hummer that stood inside. A few seconds later, an identical Hummer drew up by the Lotus, and together they moved down the roads away from the Air Base. They saw the third protoform come to land.

"There was another landing. We should check it." Mirage said to Hound as they sped along, one behind the other.

"Yes, let's find out who played Catchup, and we can all travel together." Hound agreed.

They were now as close to the crater as the road would allow, and they both converted into robot form, scrambling up towards the crater. They could hear the protoform clickling and unfolding as it shitfed into its bipedal mode.

"Sounds big and complicated. Who do you think? Wheeljack? Powerglide?" asked Hound.

"Let's wait and see, shall we?" asked Mirage, as they reached the crater. Both stepped back as a large silver form stood up in the crater. Mirage yelped.

"Neither!" he cried. "Try Starscream, Thundercracker or Skywarp, but we need to get outta here. That ain't one of ours, and that means it ain't gonna be friendly!"

Even in protoform, Seekers were unmistakable, but Hound pulled Mirage aside and down. "Don't move!" he hissed. "Unless we pose a threat, he won't attack us!"

"How do you know that?" asked Mirage, but he was silenced by a look from Hound. As they cowered there the Seeker moved off, barely registering their presence.

"Now we make for the road, go to alt and burn rubber towards our base." Hound said, and Mirage didn't argue.

"How did you know to stay still and not threaten? How did you know it'd work?" Mirage asked.

"Seekers are still Cybertronian, their overwhelming instinct upon landing is to get an alt. Unless we seemed to obstruct that imperative, that's the only thing he cares about. Once he has a disguise, he might yet come after us. Now, let's quit talking and start moving, so we can warn our friends of the unexpected arrival, before he decides to give chase and eliminate us!"

Mirage databurst a sound of agreement, and a minute later, both in alt, they sped along the road.


	4. Chapter 4

Deep Cover.

Chapter Three.

A/N: One orn = 13 days, one joor = about 6.5 hours.

It was just less than an orn after the first meeting that Optimus called a second meeting to tell all the newcomers who hadn't heard about Prowl via word of mouth what was to happen. He was also planning to give everyone an update on the Decepticon situation: although only Mirage and Hound had been so unpleasantly surprised, a few more Decepticons had arrived on Earth.

The room they met in this time was by necessity bigger, and part of a prefabricated temporary structure that the Army had begun work on erecting less than three hours after he had contacted SecDef Keller regarding housing their new arrivals.

The last to arrive for the meeting were Ironhide, and Elita and the other femmes. Elita hadn't mentioned that the five others with her were also all femmes, who had caused a minor stir amongst the Base mechs. They had arrived two joors ago, and after having their check-up with Ratchet and six hours enforced rest on Ratchet's orders, those with partners had gone to spend some quality time with them, and the three without, well, they had found mechs aplenty to show them around and introduce them to the rec-room. The last two hours before the meeting had been spent having their weapons checked over and serviced by Ironhide in the room he had claimed as his armoury.

Optimus noticed that Arcee looked a little disgruntled: she was not happy about having her plutonium tipped crossbow bolts replaced with a non-radioactive substitute, but Ironhide had pointed out that as this planet was heavily populated by intelligent organic beings, throwing radioactive elements around was a bad idea. She had remarked that the humans seemed to have no compunctions about polluting their world with radioactive elements anyway: Ironhide had countered with the observation that it was not a suitable reason to add to it. She did seem to cheer up, however, once he showed her the armour-piercing bolts he had forged to replace the plutonium-tipped ones.

Once everyone was settled, Optimus turned to the assembled Autobots, and spoke.

"We had hoped that we could all get here and work out a plan before more Decepticons arrived, but Mirage and Hound ran into one of the Seekers upon landing. Luckily, circumstances meant that they could get away, but we have now recorded five further landings. We can only hope that we can utilise the slender window of opportunity we hope to have while they get organised. We have a mission to carry out, which will involve capturing the Decepticon Barricade, who is actually an Autobot I am sure we are all familiar with, called Prowl," Optimus explained.

He and Ratchet then launched into an explanation of what had happened, answering the questions of the mechs and femmes as they arose. Most of them were similar to those of Bumblebee, centring around why and how Prowl had become Barricade, and they were able to answer the questions to the satisfaction of all those there.

Those who had arrived earlier had been sent out in alt over the time it took for everyone else to arrive, with a description of Barricade, and instructions to look for him but not confront him or let him know he was being observed. They were to tail him at a distance. and note his route, and from their observations they now had a fairly good idea of his daily routine. Unless he changed it suddenly, they knew where they could trap him, and lie in wait to ambush him.

Optimus explained the plan. Mirage would go in early, with three others he would choose, to check the area chosen and lie in wait. Bumblebee would take three more, also picked by himself, to bring up the rear and cut off other exits, while the rest would come in once the trap had been sprung.

Mirage immediately made his selections: Hound, who could assist with concealment with his holograms, Tracks, and Arcee, who was small, quick and brave. Once he had made his choices, Bumblebee was next, quickly selecting Cliffjumper, Elita-One and Moonracer as his three. Optimus divided the rest into two teams of four. The first would be led by Ironhide, and would comprise of the Twins and Chromia's ward, Flareup, the second led by Chromia herself and including Bluestreak, Inferno, Smokescreen and First Aid. These would be the ones to come in once Mirage's and Bumblebee's teams had surrounded the Decepticon.

Powerglide, as their only flier, would be in a team of one, providing aerial reconnaissance and cover from the air, in case Barricade called for help. Optimus apologised that Cliffjumper with his jet-pack, as part of Bumblebee's team, was unavailable to assist, but Powerglide waved it off with his easy smile.

"Hey, you don't need more than one when the one you have is Powerglide, the very best at what he does," he had remarked immodestly, as he always did. Everyone grinned: it was good to have 'Mr. Ego' as Jazz had once jokingly called him, back with them.

Ratchet would remain at the Base with Brawn, Wheeljack, Firestar, Optimus, and Red Alert, both to guard it from attack and to prepare it for Barricade's arrival.

"With sixteen of us there, we won't all be able to get at Barricade. What are we supposed to do?" grumbled Sunstreaker.

"If he breaks free from the inner ring, we expect you to use the same tricks he knows, and others you've learned since, to stop him getting through and free," Optimus said. "Also, we know at least one Seeker has landed, and where one is, the others are likely to follow. If Barricade calls for assistance, you may be needed to run interference against the Trine, and you have already proven that you can distract them by yourselves."

The Twins grinned wolfishly at each other.

"We're being cleared to jet-judo Screamer and the others? Does that mean we won't get wrenched for coming in needing repairs for damage afterwards?" they asked, looking sidelong at Ratchet, who huffed noisily through his vents.

"When there's a good reason, it's okay. It's when you just do it for fun and expect me to spend all my time cleaning up your minor scrapes that it gets annoying. I have more people to see to than just you two," he said.

Optimus turned back to the assembled group.

"Okay, so is everybody clear on what they will be doing?"

He waited for any sounds of dissent, and when he got none, nodded.

"Very well. Mirage, you will be in place by 0530 local time tomorrow morning, make sure Mikaela is out of sight and out of range of the battle," he said. "Bumblebee, be ready to move the moment Mikaela calls Sam to give the signal that she's seen Barricade. The rest of you, be ready to move out when the word is given."

All the mechs and femmes nodded their understanding.

"Dismissed, everybody, and good luck," Optimus said.


	5. Chapter 5

Deep Cover.

Chapter Four.

As Barricade purred down the road in his patrol zone, he had the feeling that he was being watched, but of course, the Decepticon thought, that was ridiculous. He had had this feeling several times before and although he had gone on alert, nothing had happened. He had put it down to his vulnerability at being alone, and hoped his jitters would soon pass. After all he was no longer alone, Starscream had returned with his Trine, and more Decepticons, mostly grounders like himself, were expected in the next half-orn.

Which pleased Barricade immensely: he could have chosen to stay with the Seekers rather than patrol by himself, but found their superior attitude – particularly Thundercracker's – rankled with him. Just because his medium was the ground rather than the air, they felt themselves superior to him. Barricade knew that if he spent too long with them, he'd end up gutting one of them, and as short-term satisfying that would be, he knew he'd spend the rest of his life running from the rest of the Trine.

He was unaware of the human figure in a building nearby who dialled a number on her phone and said "Sam, the party is on."

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When Sam got the call from Mikaela, the message a pre-arranged signal that sounded innocent, he told Bumblebee, and then climbed out of him. He had had it made clear to him that he was not allowed to be anywhere in the vicinity of the battle, even now Firestar was bringing Mikaela back to him and then taking them both to the Autobot Base to ensure their safety. He watched as Bumblebee and his team moved in to block off Barricade's avenues of retreat, and then he called the other two team leaders, just the fact it was him calling being their signal to begin moving into position.

The trap had been sprung.

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As Barricade turned, the sensation of being watched grew too much for him, and he turned on his sensor array briefly in order to reassure himself that it was just nerves, that he was just imagining it. What his sensors told him caused him to immediately convert to robot form and adopt a defensive stance, all sensors on full sensitivity.

He was surrounded, there were eight Cybertronian signatures nearby, and another nine further out, in all directions. He turned as Mirage stepped into view from behind a building, and then he realised his sensors had been wrong as more and more mechs stepped out into view. He was outnumbered and outgunned, and snarled, readying his claws. He might be about to be taken out, but he'd take as many of the Autobots with him as he could.

Something about the data from his sensors and the data from his optics was off. He could see far more mechs than he could sense, but as he caught sight of Hound, he realised that the hologram specialist was trying to confuse him. The problem was that there _were_ 'bots behind some of the holograms, and his sensors were clouded by the hologram data, making him unable to focus on the mech hidden behind and work out who it was and what their strengths and weaknesses were.

A blur to one side, and he was suddenly dodging cannon fire from the pink femme who darted from behind one hologram, took a shot, and then darted behind a building. As he dodged to avoid the shot, he found himself being attacked by cannon fire from behind him, and he whirled and leaped , lashing out at his attacker. Bumblebee was not fast enough to avoid him, and he keened as the claws dug into his armour, then yelled as Barricade grabbed him and threw him, sending him flying into Hound. The holograms flickered and died, and Barricade could see six of his assailants, the other two were hidden behind buildings.

He dodged as a small silver and purple figure fired at him, the armour-piercing bolt missing his leg by inches. He cursed, the Autobots _knew_ he was a close-combat melee fighter and were keeping their distances, using their ranged weapons. Well he had a few ranged surprises of his own. Crouching, he turned to the side, firing a missile from his concealed side launchers. These had been designed to be used in alt mode, not robot mode, but Barricade was nothing if not adaptable.

The small femme leaped, and the missile impacted against the wall of one of the derelict buildings, exploding harmlessly, and as he saw Bumblebee and Hound had picked themselves up, he realised he was in trouble, and called Starscream with an appeal for help. He received an affirmative: he and his wigbrothers would come to give aid.

Reassured, he charged at the nearest Autobot: the hapless Bumblebee, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, than jumping on him with all the force he could muster. Bumblebee gave an agonised squeal, and that was when Elita-One jumped the Decepticon from behind.

He ignored the yellow and silver mech to concentrate on his new foe, only stepping off Bumblebee because the uneven surface made it awkward to balance while wrestling with the femme clinging to his neck. Grabbing her by the shoulder and sinking his claws in deep, he used his brute strength to haul her bodily over his own shoulder, throwing her to the ground where Bumblebee was still getting to his feet, knocking him down again.

That was when the Seekers put in an appearance.

A red form plummeted down, Powerglide landing directly on top of the black and purple jet on the right of the formation: he must have seen them coming for he was in robot mode. Skywarp immediately lived up to his name, blinking out and then back in several metres away, but Powerglide was holding so tight that Sywarp simply took the other flier along with him for the ride. The other two began shooting at the Autobots on the ground, turning to fire again as they scattered, but then from the nearby buildings a yellow and a red figure simultaneously leaped for the jets, one going for each, who could not move aside mid-turn fast enough to avoid them.

As the Seekers cried out and began trying to dislodge their unwanted passengers, Barricade turned back to the other Autobots. Upon realising the Seekers were otherwise distracted, they had come back out from hiding and were readying themselves to fight.

That was when Barricade spotted Arcee.

He didn't know if she had fallen while running or was hit by the Seekers' fire, but she lay there, prone and unprotected, face-down on the ground. Seizing the advantage, Barricade feinted towards one of the standing Autobots but then leaped for the small femme. He reached for her, planning to use her as a hostage to escape, although he wouldn't tell then that he planned to snap the nine-foot femme in two once he was clear.

His hands were a few inches from her when she twisted towards him. Desperate to stop her escaping, he grabbed for the upflung arm closest to her, and her nearside leg. It was then that she used the crossbow in her other hand to coolly shoot one of her piercing bolts into one of his hip joints.

The pain caused him to lose his hold on her as he fell and tried instinctively to break his fall, and she rolled away, unhurt, her vulnerable appearance having been no more than that, a plan to draw him close. He shifted to defend himself from the Autobots who were advancing on him, and then screamed as he felt a laser bolt hit his other hip. He saw his attacker, Mirage, shimmer into view as he deactivated his disrupter - it was no longer needed. Barricade fell, his lower body unable to support him further, and it was then that Bluestreak finally felled him with a heavy stun beam. Just to make sure he stayed down, First Aid moved over to Barricade and used a medical tool to take his processors offline, and convert him to his alt.

Powerglide finally released Skywarp, and Starscream and Thundercracker finally threw off the Twins, and the Seeker trine retreated. Bluestreak dropped into alt, and Mirage found a length of tow rope in Ironhide's trunk, and connected it to the deactivated Decepticon and Bluestreak.

"All those injured, head to the Base as best yer can, get help if yer need it," Ironhide said. "First Aid, the Twins, and I will accompany Bluestreak and Barricade. The rest of yer, transform, disperse and we'll meet back at Base."

As everyone went into alt and drove off, Ironhide organised the convoy. Ironhide and Sunstreaker went ahead, Sideswipe and First Aid took up the rear, and between them, Bluestreak towed the inert Decepticon.

Powerglide rose into the air but accompanied them the whole way.


	6. Chapter 6

-1Deep Cover.

Chapter Five.

A/N: 1 vorn=83 human years. 1 joor=4.5 hours. **Bold text** is databurst speech.

Ratchet felt safe leaving Barricade offline for a bit, placing the Decepticon, still in vehicle form, in the sluice room often used for washing, with instructions for the 'bots to hose each other off in the courtyard if they needed a wash. He treated Bumblebee, Hound, and Elita-One, putting them both into recharge immediately after their repairs, than repaired the rest of the attack group that needed it, sending them off to continue with Base construction work. He then moved Barricade to the floor by his temporary worktable, commed Prime, managed to fiddle enough to send Barricade into robot form again, and then got Prime to help lift him onto his main worktable.

"Ok, Prime, tell everybody I am not to be disturbed except in case of emergencies, then go and recharge, and no arguments, I _know_ you haven't recharged in five days."

Optimus looked about to protest, then caught sight of the steely look in Ratchet's optic, and nodded.

"Arcee is waiting outside your door, and she'll see you into the rechgarge unit and com me when done so don't even _think_ of sneaking off to the control room or sitting in your chair at your desk to do other work," Ratchet stated. "I _know_ all your tricks so don't even _try_."

A hint of a smile tweaked the corners of Optimus' metal lips as he nodded.

"Very well, Medic, I shall take an eight-hour recharge on your orders." As he walked out, Ratchet sighed in satisfaction: he knew Prime would stick to his word. After checking that Sam was sleeping contentedly by Bumblebee, and commed someone in the rec-room to make sure Lennox and Mikaela were okay, he turned back to their captured Decepticon.

Ratchet ran a professional optic as well as several types of medical scan over the prone figure on his workbench, and frowned. He knew the Decepticons had a fair few decent medics in their ranks, but he also knew there were many more of the sloppy, half-qualified 'weld-em-and let 'em go' types out there too, and judging by the state of Barricades internals, circuitry, and energon and coolant systems, he had been attended to by more of the latter than the former over the last few vorns.

"Slaggers." muttered Ratchet as he began to carefully unhook and remove Barricade's plating, laying it out in order on a nearby table. He'd sort out what could go back and what might need reshaping later. He would repair the damage done on the internals and joints first, reworking the plating back into Prowl's softer contours could be done later…if the ethical dilemma in Ratchet's processors could be resolved by then.

Ratchet placed that dilemma into a separate area of processor space and built a mental wall about it, to allow his processors to work on it in peace.

Mentally prioritising the work to be done in his processors, he bent to his task.

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Twelve joors – or by human standards, just over three days – later, Ratchet straightened up from his patient. He had replaced sensors, checked every length of energon tubing, every length of coolant lines, and repaired, replaced, and refilled where necessary. He had checked circuits and circuit boards, carefully dismantled, cleaned, and reassembled each hydraulic joint, gone through each servo, lubricating, replacing and mending what needed to be fixed. He had taken out Barricade's optics, had not yet changed the colour filters, but had made sure each and every component was in good working order, repairing or replacing with the supplies from the Army, and the spares he carried in subspace, anything that wasn't up to standard.

He had checked the fine wires and thick cables throughout Barricade's limbs, and the primary junction in the chest, and the secondary one at the hips. He had checked everything there was to check, jury-rigging from what he had when he had to, and in those cases decided to enquire if the humans could make parts for him if he submitted blueprints of what he needed. All he needed to do now was alter the plating back to Prowl's less spiky form, download the Barricade-memories and personality onto fresh chips, in case they were ever needed for something else, then erase them from Prowl's memories, replacing them with a condensed history of the pertinent events of the last few million years.

This brought him back to the ethical dilemma he had partitioned off for his processors to work on separately earlier. He examined what the work had thrown up, was fairly certain about most of the issues it brought up, but to clarify his thinking and get further input, he needed to speak to someone else about it. Maybe he would have an answer to the irresolvable issues in this case. He covered Barricade with a big tarpaulin, and commed Prime.

**You free? I need to talk to you about something that has come up.**

**Yes, Ratchet, my door is open, come in,** the Prime commed back.

**I'm on my way,** Ratchet replied.

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Ratchet walked in and stood in front of Optimus' new desk, which emphasised that this was a professional visit rather than a social call.

"Prime, we have a problem with changing Barricade back into Prowl," the medic said, coming directly to the point.

"What is it?" asked Optimus in concern. "Has something happened to his body?"

"No, it's more to do with his mind. As I recall, when we started this, his spying mission was never intended to last so long, right?" asked the medic. Optimus nodded.

"We did not expect him to go absent, for him to be irretrievable, for so long, that is correct," the Prime confirmed.

Ratchet nodded, appeared to think for a few moments, and then said, "So potential long-term consequences and ethical issues were never considered?"

Optimus looked at his medical officer, wondering what Ratchet was working up towards.

"Yes, as it was meant to last no more than a few vorns, the long-term effects and implications were never considered. What are you trying to tell me, Ratchet, what concerns you so? What have you come up with?"

"Prime, nobody would argue that the original Barricade personality, and even the stuff he will have learned and observed in the few vorns this was supposed to take, was based primarily on an artificial construct, thus we have the right to remove it so Prowl can be himself again. However, it has now been millions of years, rather than a few vorns, since the personality was implanted. In that time it must have developed, grown, deviated from the original, basic personality I put in, to become something separate, a true personality in its own right," Ratchet stated. "Again, I cannot think of any reason to deny Prowl his own memories and personality back, but the ethical problem it raises is that removing the Barricade personality is no longer just removing a fabricated program. By now, over all these years, Barricade's personality has developed into something far more complex, and is now, in its own way, as real as Prowl's own."

Ratchet looked into Optimus' blue optics with concern.

"We have two personalities, but only one body, and only one Spark. I won't just be restoring Prowl by removing a fabricated set of memories and history any more. Barricade has developed, grown, become a personality in his own right." Optimus looked up at Ratchet, seeing the problem that Ratchet now had.

As if reading his thoughts, the medic stated what was now on both of their processors.

"If I am to restore Prowl, it means I that I must destroy the other personality. To retrieve our friend, I must kill Barricade."


	7. Chapter 7

Deep Cover.

Chapter Six.

Optimus looked at Ratchet and said "We appear to have a problem on our hands, but if we work our way through it, perhaps we can sort out a solution. Let's assume we kept Barricade, or just released him to return to the Decepticons. What would happen to him?"

"He would return to them, and it would be as if we never caught him, except that he would be far more wary of us than he had been before." Ratchet stated.

"You do know that technically we could not do this, even if he were not our Prowl in another guise?" Optimus asked. "For a start, the list of war crimes against Barricade is a very long one, we could not allow him loose to commit more. We would have to keep him incarcerated here, or somewhere else, for a very long time, risking escape or sabotage or the death of other mechs the whole time?"

"Yes, I can see how that would be an issue, although it does not give us the right to kill him. The death penalty on Cybertron was abolished well before the war began," the medic stated. "I will not sacrifice Barricade simply because the personality we gave him led him to kill and torment and commit crimes that we see as irredeemable. To reach the Decepticon ranks, I had to give him a personality that could do that if called upon: the fault is as much mine as it is his."

"On the other hand, Prowl's only wrong was to take on this spy mission and unknowingly become absent for longer than planned. Does he not deserve his right to live, to his own identity, to the memories he had before he took on this mission?" Optimus asked. "You can download the Barricade memories, perhaps put them in an artificial consciousness, keep the personality alive perhaps by putting all the programmed stuff and memories into a computer, let him run that. It won't quite be him because it will not have a Spark, thus not really alive, but it will keep his personality and memories intact. It is surely better than being wiped and discarded – or indeed, incarcerated for the rest of his life to do nothing but attempt to escape, to sabotage our or the human's systems, and to try and kill his guards."

"I'll take it for now," growled Ratchet, still not really happy. "I'm accepting it merely as a temporary solution to the issue though, and will work my hardest to find some way to allow the personality to gain a life and Spark of it's own – perhaps if a dormant Spark is found, no clue as to who and what it was, we can give it the personality but wipe the memories of the worst crimes from the processors to give the personality a second chance. Let it try both sides and then let it choose once it has both choices to choose from. One way or another, I think this personality should have some sort of chance. Thank you, Prime, I knew we could not desert Prowl, but the idea of simply discarding Barricade's personality sat bad with me, this way I can at least save it, it may have a chance to continue its life in the near future if the opportunity presents itself."

Ratchet went back to the med bay and began sorting parts to construct into a crude device to save the personality. It would take at least a week he guessed, but now that Barricade was fixed, another week offline wouldn't make much difference. He gave a distracted wave to Cliffjumper, who seemed to be working on something made of metal, then turned to take a closer look at what the talented craftsmech was working on. He grinned.

"A sparkling body? Which femme has said she's carrying and who's the co-creator?" he asked as he looked at the almost-complete exoskeleton Cliffjumper was working on.

"None yet, but how long do you want to bet before this'll be needed? I did an earlier one but it's not so good, I'm out of practice, but this one should be up to standard," said Cliffjumper. Ratchet kept the smile: Cliffjumper was likely right, once the femmes got over the loss of the AllSpark and decided to settle to sparkling-raising, the bodies would indeed be in demand. It could never be too early to be prepared in cases like this.

"Well, perhaps when you're finished with that you could help me with this?" he asked. He explained what he hoped to make, and Cliffjumper nodded and agreed to help

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In the end it took closer to six weeks – Ratchet send some blueprints for parts off to be made specially as he feared what the humans already had would not be up to the task. While they waited, Cliffjumper continued to make sparkling bodies, during which time Elita-One walked into the med bay looking very pleased with herself and placidly announced "I am carrying mine and Optimus' sparkling. Will a body be available in time?" Cliffjumper actually surprised her when he pulled out five assorted different sizes and colours to choose from, and after choosing one of the sparkling bodies, she complimented him on his foresight and went back out.

Once the storage device was completed, Ratchet went to Barricade and copied off Barricade's memories, as a backup in case something went hideously wrong, then removed the processors and chips he'd replaced Prowl's own with so long ago. He had to tug and heave a bit, they had got quite wedged into place over the years, but he managed to remove them and put them in the device without any hitches.

Ratchet took Prowl's processors and memory chips out of subspace where they had lain since he put them there, and after checking each one for wear or damage, he inserted them back in. While waiting for the parts, Ratchet had not been idle, had altered the plating and restored Prowl's body back to its original appearance, all excepting the chest. This was because Prowl/Barricade had received further alterations after being picked up by the Decepticons to be given new weaponry, and to accommodate Frenzy, and those modifications had involved altering and moving the mech's Spark- chamber, a procedure that had left it damaged, much to Ratchet's dismay.

He had readied one of the Sparkling-bodies: Ratchet would be adjusting Prowl's body back to its original chest arrangement. The procedure was risky, he might need a temporary body if things didn't go to plan, although if he was careful there should be no problem. The biggest issue was that the Spark-chamber had been damaged: it had scratches on it, and it had been altered and moved, and Ratchet had no clue what that might have done to the vulnerable Spark within.

Ratchet made his changes, starting on the further connections and moving inwards, careful to check things twice before moving them. Upon inspecting the Spark-chamber he realised that some of the scratches were so deep that the chamber could breach if put under too much stress, he would have to risk repairing the damage. He had a special tool for this, he had not had to use it much but knew how to, and he used it to infill the scratches, then passed an electrical current over them to harden the metal-based filler. Once done, the repair was indistinguishable from the original chamber to the naked optic, although scans would show that it was a repair job.

Ratchet couldn't say whether it was some sort of unknown feedback from use of the repairing mechanism or whether what happened was spontaneous, but the readings from the quiescent Spark on his scanners suddenly jumped. The Spark was agitated, something had taken it from quiescent to active, and its activity level was at a level Ratchet had rarely seen before, in fact on only two types of occasion had he seen a pattern like this. The first was when a femme was giving Spark to a sparkling, the second was when a mech or femme was dying, and Prowl was no carrying femme.

As the frenetic Spark pushed against its casing in an attempt to escape, Ratchet rushed for his equipment, databursting for anyone near the medbay to come in and help, hoping he could save the unstable Spark that was trying to escape from the body.

He had discussed with Prime earlier which mech they should allow to continue existing. He had not thought that they might end up with neither.


	8. Chapter 8

Deep Cover.

Chapter Seven.

A/N: Thanks to Loki and KDZeal of the Nerdene Herd for the ideas for this. Also, kudos to Blood Shifter and Bluebird Soaring for seeing this coming. And, you are either gonna love this chappy, or hate it….…my Muses (probably involving Ratchet) exert their authority again ad throw a humongous wrench in my plans…

The first thing Prowl noticed when he opened his optics was that he was obviously not in Ratchet's medical facility, or at least not the last one he recalled being in at any rate. The ceiling and walls were a completely different colour, the shelving on the wall didn't look like standard issue, and the room was smaller than the one he'd been in before.

The second was that the smell and feel of the air was very different to anything he had noticed on Cybertron. His sensors told him that the air was redolent with scents that came from organic rather than mechanical compounds, although there was the scent he associated with his own species, but very faint. So, wherever he was, he doubted it was Cybertron. This was unexpected, although the Decepticons leaving Cybertron had been expected, it had not been expected that it would be a long absence. Which made him wonder how long he had been undercover for.

Upon checking his internal clock, he almost had a Spark-attack when he saw how long it had recorded. At first he assumed it was glitched, but a quick diagnostic told it was in perfect working order. Which meant that either both the clock and the diagnostic were both glitched…or he had been on this spy mission for far longer than had first been planned.

Raising his hands he could see the fading scars of reshaping, but could see that his hands were no longer the wicked claws of the mech he hade been remodelled into. He remembered after the initial remodelling that when Ratchet had shown him the results, he almost hadn't recognised his own reflection. Putting his hands down and feeling his head, arms and chest he realised that Ratchet had changed him back, which made it likely that the spy mission was finished, and after all that time, so it should be.

He carefully sat up wondering where Ratchet was, and that was when he spotted Elita. She was sat on another workbench with a can of some sort of fuel, filling the tank of a grey and black sparkling cradled in her other arm. It wriggled a bit, let out a cry of protest from its vocaliser as she shifted position a little, then settled back down to the serious business of feeding again, grabbing on to the femme's arm with its tri-fingered hands.

Prowl smiled: a mech or femme holding a sparkling had been a rare sight even at the beginning of the war, some of the Decepticons had taken a perverse pleasure in shooting down the helpless, or Creators with small younglings. Sometimes it was just the younglings that were killed, the grieving Creator given the choice to join the Decepticons or join the small broken bodies in deactivation on the ground. Although some joined, most chose death, and after some of the conscripted ex-Creators staged a short but brutal revolt (which was quickly crushed) those with younglings were either left alone or just cut down where they were found, usually the latter, although there were well-substantiated rumours that some groups conscripted the whole family, putting the younglings into adult bodies, or separating them from their Creators to be trained as soldiers…and were used as hostages to keep their Creators in line.

Shaking off the dark memories, Prowl stood, holding on to the worktable to keep his balance, as Elita looked up and smiled.

"Hello, Prowl, welcome back." She said. "Ratchet has given you a summary of events that covers the time you missed, to keep you up to speed, plus looked at and given you back relevant data you learned as Barricade."

"Thank you Elita. You look lovely with that sparkling. Is it a mech or a femme?" he asked, while skim-reviewing the information she had mentioned.

"This is a mech." she said. "Ratchet is through in the stasis room, checking on Jazz, he should be through soon."

"Jazz?" he asked, stopping his review. "What's happened to him?"

"It's in the review, but you may want to sit down first." She said.

"I haven't got to that point in the review yet." He said. "Now tell me. Where is Jazz. What happened to him?" His voice was even and calm, belying his concern.

"There was a battle. From what I heard, Jazz faced down Megatron to buy time for some humans – the dominant species on this planet – to escape. Megatron took him and tore him into two pieces." She winced as she recounted what she had heard. "Ratchet hasn't said he's dead, but Optimus privately says he saw the white flash, and fears that Jazz is indeed dead." As Prowl got up and headed towards the door, Elita twisted towards him.

"The stasis room is just across the corridor," she informed him.

Prowl walked in to see Ratchet bending over Jazz, new welds marring his beautiful silver body. The visor, thus the optics beneath, were unlit, the limbs relaxed, and Prowl felt his Spark twist at the sight of his almost-brother's inert form.

"He's dead, isn't he?" he said, startling the medic, who turned abruptly to face him.

"Perhaps, but I've had an idea. Did you review all the data I gave you?"

"Not yet." Prowl admitted.

"Well, Megatron was defeated but we also lost the AllSpark." Ratchet said, steadying Prowl as the latter staggered back at the unwelcome news. "Yes, we are dependant on the femmes to continue our kind, thank Primus they don't seem unwilling." Ratchet said, his dry humour seeping into his vocal tone. "There is a piece of it left that Prime is bringing with him now, and here he is," said Ratchet.

Optimus walked in, followed by Bumblebee.

"Prowl. It is good to see you again." Optimus said. He dropped a silvery twisted shard of metal into Ratchet's hands. "You and Bumblebee deal with Jazz, Prowl and I will retreat to a safe distance." Optimus put a hand on Prowl's shoulder, steering them to a place where they could still see, but further away.

"What's going on?" Prowl asked.

"The fragment of AllSpark still has a little power, we are hoping that as Jazz's Spark is so recently departed that it may be retrievable with the help of the AllSpark fragment," Optimus explained. "The only problem is that Jazz's Spark is not the only recently-departed one. Bumblebee will attempt to communicate to the Essence which one we want back, but there is still a risk the Essence will bring the wrong one back. The odds if we let the AllSpark Essence bring back one at random, considering five Decepticons also perished, would be five to one against, but maybe Bumblebee can find some way to identify Jazz's spark in a way the Essence can tell which is which."

Prowl turned back to where Ratchet was placing the sliver of metal on to Jazz's chest plates. Bumblebee raised his head and began to sing to it, as Ratchet retreated. Bumblebee's humming was melodic, gentle, pleasing to the audio, and as the small yellow mech sang, the fragment began to glow. Jazz's body trembled, then suddenly he sprang up, the fragment falling, and then fell over his own feet.

"What have you done to me, Autobot scum? Where am I?" he asked, his voice sounding harsh, and not at all like Jazz's.

"Whoops, wrong one by the sound of _that_!" Ratchet said, leaping forwards and landing on the silver mech, pinning him to the floor.

"I don't understand it, I told the Essence I wanted it to bring back the silver one who was the last to die." Bumblebee said in puzzlement.

"I am Megatron!" the silver form said, just as Ratchet managed to apply a medical tool to the back of its neck and it fell limp. Ratchet gave Bumblebee an exasperated look.

"'The silver one who was the last to die?'" Well, you got who you asked for Bumblebee, being as Megatron was silver, killed Jazz, and then died."

"Oh, _slag_," said Bumblebee, rather abashed. "I meant the_ second_ last to die. Um. I don't think the Essence will send him back somehow, but we can't leave him in Jazz's body. Can we? And how does he know who he is, as the processors in the head belong to Jazz?"

"Spark-memory, most Sparks, if they have lived long enough, and not lain dormant too long, can recall their name, and maybe recall isolated fragments of their lives. Not a lot, usually. As to what we can do, I've done this before. Bumblebee, go into the med bay and pick out a spare Sparkling body and a transfer loop." Ratchet said. "Then we can try again, perhaps with the_ correct_ information for the Essence this time?"

Bumblebee disappeared and returned with a blue sparkling body and transfer loop. The transfer went well, the bright Spark being taken from Jazz's spark chamber to the sparkling body without a hitch.

"I will look after this one." Optimus said, taking the small clicking and wriggling sparkling into his large arms and walking out towards the med bay.

"It'll need feeding. Ask Elita where the sparkling-grade energon I brewed is stored." Ratchet called. Then he turned back to Bumblebee.

"Let me put Jazz back up on the worktable, and we'll do Take Two. Although I hope we don't end up bringing back all the Decepticons before we get Jazz, I'll run out of Sparkling bodies if we do," the medic said, lifting Jazz up, but letting his lips curve into a smile at the thought.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

The second run went without a hitch, and Jazz and Prowl shared an emotional hug and both were brought up to date with events they didn't know about before Jazz was ordered into a 12-hour recharge by Ratchet.

"You've been dead and offline for two months Jazz, you can't expect to get up and run around straight away. You need recharge, fuel, and a full medical scan, in that order, so no ifs, buts or maybes." Ratchet said, physically picking up the fifteen-foot mech and placing him in a recharge chamber.

"Hey, okay man, I can get in by meself." Jazz protested.

"Not till I've confirmed you are fit, you can't." Ratchet said, pushing shut the chamber lid and setting the dial for twelve hours. Prowl and Jazz watched as Jazz powered down and went still, twitching once in a while, and then Ratchet turned to Prowl.

"Okay, now we'd better go and see how Elita is doing with your brother." Ratchet told Prowl.

"Brother?" repeated Prowl. "I was an only sparkling, I _have_ no brother."

"Oh, I forgot, you haven't been told. You _do_ now have a brother. When fixing you up, I thought I was going to lose you, thought you were dying, but that wasn't the case. As your Spark had been placed under so much stress, something else happened."

"How does this relate to this so called 'brother' you say I have?" Prowl asked. "What happened?"

"Not so-called brother, he actually _is _your brother." Ratchet said. "It doesn't happen often with new Sparks, let alone adults, but it happened with you. The stresses placed on your Spark caused it to split.

The sparkling Elita is looking after in the med bay? That's your new twin brother."


	9. Chapter 9

Deep Cover.

Chapter Eight.

A/N: the "Treaty Of Iacon" is all mine, with thanks to the Nerdene Hyrde for helping to refine it. I can provide a copy of it if requested, and if you want to use it in your fics, all I ask is to be asked and credited. Please do not alter it without my permission either.

Ratchet walked back through to where Elita had finished feeding the grey and black sparkling, and was thrumming her engine, holding it against her chest in an attempt to lull it into recharge. Optimus was sat next to her, filling the tank of the blue sparkling. It seemed more inclined to enter recharge than Elita's small charge: it was cooing, and its optics were half-shuttered as it snuggled into the crook of the Autobot leader's arm, while the grey and black sparkling was wriggling and letting out fractious-sounding clicks.

"Active, isn't he." Said Ratchet. "I'm theorising here that the presence of two different personalities at different times on this Spark partly triggered the split: I am going to let this sparkling develop its own personality rather than impose the Barricade-personality on it as I think it is likely to be naturally that way. We can alter some of the memories so that certain significant events in Barricade's life can be introduced as knowledge, and his fighting ability and methods can be translated into skills as opposed to memories." The medic picked the wriggling sparkling out of Elita's arms and held him up to look at him.

He spoke again.

"That is the best way I see of allowing Barricade to survive without having to impose restrictions. If we erase the memories of his crimes from what we give this one, or couch them as data of a battle but not name the mechs involved, he can still have that knowledge without the need to punish him for actions that were a result of the artificial personality I gave you. He will have a chance to make any decisions based both on the knowledge he gained as Barricade, but balanced out by experiencing the way we live as Autobots. That way, he has real choice, not an artificially – influenced bent to the Decepticon – or indeed, the Autobot – cause."

Ratchet reached out to Prowl with the tiny mech: Prowl put his hands out instinctively, then pulled them close to him as Ratchet placed the Sparkling in them and its own writhing almost caused him to drop it. He felt the truth then of what Ratchet was telling him, could feel the tug of a bond, could feel the simultaneous beats of his and the Sparkling's sparks.

"What about Megatron? He seems happy enough as opposed to calling us "scum" earlier." He said. "Also, would he not also be considered a war criminal, and much more so than Barricade?" he asked.

Ratchet flicked his optics back to look at the blue sparkling which was now in full recharge in Optimus' arms.

"Spark-memory can sometimes be strengthened by a shock to the Spark in question, which suddenly coming back to life, seeing us and then pitching onto the floor would count," said Ratchet. "A mild trauma such as that, will not likely strengthen it for long: he'll know his name, and may feel antipathy to any one of us, but is unlikely to realise why. At the moment his body is telling him he was hungry, but that hunger has been sated, that his body feels secure, that he is physically weary, and that he is warm. Sparkling bodies are so designed that a combination of all these factors will send them into recharge. Look, even that one is quieting now you are holding it. Now it feels safe, next to your Spark."

As Prowl looked down to look at the now-quiescent sparkling, Ratchet spoke again.

"Megatron would indeed be a war criminal if his processors had survived and we chose to return them to him unaltered, but the processors in question are now lying at the bottom of the Laurentian Abyss, possibly irretrievably crushed from the pressure of the ocean depths. As we do not even have those processors to base things upon, we will give him the general history data file given to all Sparklings, and bring him up as such with organic life around, in a more secure situation, giving him, too, another chance, a chance to grow up and live his life perhaps somewhat differently, to grow up in an environment different from that he had on Cybertron."

"As with Barricade, we will give him both sides of the war, both sides point of view, to allow him to make his own choice, though by necessity, Megatron's sparklinghood, to be properly balanced, will be longer than Barricade's." The speaker this time was not Ratchet, but Optimus.

"As we decided back on Cybertron, both Barricade and Megatron, as they will be younglings, will be considered neutral, until they, plus either Ratchet or their Creator-figure, or myself, or any other suitable adult, for that matter, decide they are ready, and suitably enough informed, to choose a side if they wish to do so." Optimus said. "That is what was decided our stance on younglings and Sparklings would be, and I will not compromise those beliefs. Until both these personalities have enough experience and are at a stage where they want to make a choice, and if one other adult believes they are capable of making an informed decision, they will be considered neutral, and given the restrictions and privileges of that factionless state."

Prowl nodded: those distinctions had been needed in the days when the Treaty of Iacon had been drawn upon and finalised: himself, Optimus and Ratchet had been amongst the document's architects. He was glad that those distinctions had not been blurred during his extended absence, even though the Treaty had failed and the Decepticons tended to break even the two Protocols they had initially signed.

Looking back down he saw the sparkling – his twin brother, Barricade, – had slid into first stage recharge, curling up trustingly towards his chest, drawn into that position by the warmth and beat of their shared Spark. He hadn't even tried to encourage it by revving his engine, as Elita had tried to do – and that attempt had failed.

"I think maybe I had better care for this small one, he is my twin and seems to derive comfort from being with me. After all, Elita, you will soon have your own sparkling to care for, and I'm assuming that Optimus wishes to look after Megatron." He said.

"You assumed right." Optimus stated. "Thank you, Prowl, I think Elita and I can comfortably care for two, but three would stretch us, even I cannot be in two locations at once." He smiled with a humour Prowl had seen only occasionally before: it seemed that being a Creator agreed with their Prime.

"One more question." He asked, raising one of his newly blunt-fingered hands to caress the Sparkling's face: it nuzzled him in response. "Will we be giving them their original names or new ones?" he asked.

"I plan to give Megatron his original name: it is not uncommon amongst our kind to be named after, or in honour, of another." Optimus stated. "Before his lust for power changed him from the brother I knew into an unjust and power-hungry stranger, Megatron presided as the fairest Lord High Protector in Cybertronian history, over the Golden Age of Cybertron. It would not be unusual for his name to be passed on by Autobot and Decepticon alike to young, for totally different reasons." Optimus paused, and looked again at the grey and white Sparkling Prowl was holding.

"Of course, what you name your twin brother, as you have taken it upon yourself to act as his Creator, is up to you," Optimus stated. "Unfortunately Barricade does not have a historical reference you can go back to, unless you look deeply into the annals of our history, which are now all but lost to us."

"His name shall be Barricade," Prowl stated. "I have taken the unusual but not unheard-of step of honouring an enemy I once admired, whose views I did not agree with but whose skills I found impressive. It is the best way I can think of honouring an adversary who I no longer see on the battlefield," He stated.

Optimus nodded: truthful without telling the whole truth, in such circumstances it was a logical option.

But then, he reflected, he would expect no less of his stoic and sensible tactician.

"Prowl," he stated, "it _is_ good to have you back."

A/N: So, does this need an epilogue, a sequel or both? What would you like to see in an epilogue/sequel? Review me and tell me!


	10. Chapter 10

Deep Cover.

Epilogue.

Two months later.

"Er, Bee, I would prefer to _never_ see those particular mechs ever again if I have my way," Sam said as he slid in the Camaro's driver-side seat. "I'm going to do my best to avoid them whenever I'm in the Base. Why would you think otherwise?" The human pulled the seatbelt over and put it in its lock. Bumblebee was, of course, perfectly capable of strapping Sam in himself, but Sam preferred to have _something_ to do for himself.

"It's not my idea, Sam it's Optimus, I just happen to agree with him. The point is, no matter how hard you try to avoid them in the base, at some point _they_ will see _you_. Optimus would prefer that they get used to you while they are sparklings, to avoid potentially bigger problems when they get bigger bodies."

Sam sighed as Bumblebee started his engine and purred quietly down the drive as the two friends headed off to the Autobot base. It had been decided that introducing the Base sparklings to more than one human at a time could be a bit much, so Mikaela would come to be introduced once they were used to Sam.

"With three of them all wanting to investigate different places in different directions, we soon found out that no matter how many mechs were about at the time, there were not enough available optics to watch them all the time," Bumblebee told Sam as they drove along. "We're not _used_ to having sparklings about, and they kept finding some of the weirdest and hard to get to places to crawl into. So, we looked on the Internet and fashioned what I believe humans call 'playpens' for them."

Playpens or no, Sam was not looking forward to meeting Megatron and Barricade again, whether they were sparklings or not, even if, as Bumblebee said, it was highly unlikely that they would recognise him. Cybertronian babies, he recalled being told, could be as big or bigger than him, so he didn't relish the idea of being seen as some sort of organic teddy-bear by one or both of them either. Whether he was hugged to death or stomped to death by any one of them, in the end the result would be the same, and he'd rather not risk either.

They reached the Base and Sam climbed out and then climbed into Bumblebee's hands to go into the base. With so many big pairs of feet about it really was the safest way to travel. None of the 'bots would deliberately harm Sam, of course, but, for example, if Wheeljack was thinking of a problem and didn't see him, he could still end up being stepped on if he didn't move quickly enough.

Their first stop was Optimus' office, where they walked in to see Optimus doing exaggerated shushing motions, pointing to the small fir-green sparkling that was sprawled, oblivious, on his desk, face up, optics shuttered, limbs limp.

"That's mine and Elita's, Terra Prima, or 'Terry' as Will calls her," Optimus said with paternal pride. "You can meet her when she's woken, but I've called Elita to take her out for now." He had barely finished speaking when Elita came in, gave Sam and Bumblebee a smile and a nod, and carefully lifted the limp form into her arms. It cooed, shifted to a more comfortable position in her arms, snuggled into her chest and then was still. She nodded to Optimus, her optics dimmed as she sent him what Bumblebee suspected was a highly-private databurst, and exited the room, all within the space of two minutes.

Optimus turned to the metal, oversized playpen Sam had not at first seen, as Bumblebee placed the human on the floor.

"Ratchet has pointed out that it is best to introduce the sparklings to humans when they are at their smallest and most controllable," Optimus stated.

"He means the sparklings, not you humans," Bumblebee remarked in what Sam recognised as an attempt at humour to calm him down. Bumblebee had become adept by now at reading Sam's moods, trying to cheer him up if he seemed down, and reassure him, as now, when he was nervous.

Optimus ignored Bumblebee's comment, or at least didn't reply to it, but bent down and picked up the small blue sparkling from the playpen, and put it down just in front of his feet, about ten feet from Sam.

"Sam, meet Megatron, Megatron, this is a human, his name is Sam," Optimus said, as if introducing the two at a social function.

Megatron looked at Sam wide-opticked for a moment, then rapidly crawled backwards with a cry. He bumped into Optimus' foot, edged round it, then stood up, peering round Optimus' lower leg, arms wrapped around it, while still shrieking.

"What the-?" Sam asked. "Am I _that_ ugly?"

"No Sam," Optimus sighed. "Ratchet wondered if this might happen. Spark-memory is an odd thing, but it _will_ recall trauma, and the sight of you has triggered a Spark-memory. He may not even realise _why_, but he probably associates the sight of you with something nebulous and scary that he knows is associated with you."

"He's _scared_ of me?" asked Sam in disbelief. "But he's _bigger_ than me!"

"Sam, he doesn't know why, but he associates you with some unknown frightening event. Sometimes the unknown fear can be more frightening than a known peril." He bent to pick up the squalling mech.

"Go and see Barricade now, Prowl has him in the security office." Optimus suggested. "You can come back in here once every few days for longer and longer times till he's used to you, and realises you are nothing to be scared of." Optimus said.

"Okay." Sam said, as Bumblebee stooped to pick him up, still unable to get over the fact that Megatron was now terrified of the sight of him, one thin, underweight, and physically unimpressive human.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Bumblebee databurst Prowl, and walked in.

"Hello." Prowl said, he was behind his desk. He stood as Bumblebee once again set Sam on the floor and said "Sam has come to visit Barricade."

"Well," Prowl stated as he picked the grey and black sparkling out from the pen and plopped it in front of Sam with no warning and no ceremony. "here he is."

The mech was on all fours, and leaned forwards, thrust its rounded head forward on its squat neck towards Sam, opened its optics wide, and _stared._ Under that intent blue gaze, innocent as it seemed, Sam felt almost as if he were naked under the mech's unwavering regard. He fidgeted.

"Um…what's it doing?" Sam asked stupidly.

"He," corrected Prowl. "He's working out if you warrant further scrutiny."

Sam looked up at Bumblebee, which is probably why he never saw Barricade coming. He heard the sound of clanking metal, and was swatted to the floor as a three-fingered, clumsy metal hand made a failed attempt to grab at him. He yelped, more in surprise than pain as he rolled, then felt the hand grab him and lift him up. There was one minor problem; the mech had him by one of his legs and was holding him upside down.

"Hm, he's decided you're interesting enough to warrant a closer look." Prowl said, and Sam could have sworn he sounded amused.

"Waah!" Sam said as the sparkling raised him to optic level. "Could you ask him to put me down, or if he won't do that, at least hold me the right way up?"

"Barricade, turn him around the other way, hold him gently round his body, and remember not to squeeze." Prowl said, which reassured Sam not at all. The sparking turned its head to Prowl, releasing a rapid volley of whirrs, whistles and clicks.

"I _know_ it makes interesting sounds that way up, but it's not comfortable." Prowl told the sparkling patiently. "It's not an 'it' either, it's a he. His name is Sam and I'm sure he'll make interesting sounds the other way up as well, so do as I say or I'll have to take him off you, he doesn't _like_ being held like that."

Sam felt the sparkling take him round the waist, and to his relief turn him head-up. He was also relieved to note that the sparkling's grip was gentle, not too tight but tight enough to make him feel secure. Barricade drew him close to his round sparkling face and looked him over, occasionally giving him a gentle poke with a digit of his other hand. Sam tried not to squirm: he was sure such an inviting response would only encourage the poking. Instead he leaned forward to stroke the matte silver face, which was silky to the touch. Barricade obviously liked this, half-shuttering his optics in pleasure and purring.

Barricade seemed less and less alert as Sam kept stroking: Sam was beginning to wonder if Barricade would fall asleep still clutching him when Prowl carefully helped Sam disengage from the hands of the sleepy mech, and lifted Barricade to his chest.

"He needs to sleep now. Thank you for coming, Sam, I think he'll be okay around you in the future.

"Thanks." Sam said as Bumblebee picked him up. "Hey 'Bee, buddy, can we go see the others in the rec-room? Dewbot's in there, isn't he, I think a bottle of Dew would go down really well right now."

Bumblebee nodded, and carried Sam out of the room.


End file.
